A monk's bouquet of roses
Sep. 9th, 2004 12:05 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
greybetaSome of my readers have been reading the first lines of my updates then skimming the rest. You people make me a sad panda.
But that’s okay, my Ferrett sensei taught me people will read me if they’re interested. I’ll know because if I touched them they’ll comment.
My scheming roommate is at it again. We have agreed that if he gets below a certain weight that I’ll get drunk with him (hyperbolically speaking, of course).
I shared my testimony at the BSU FOCUS lunch today. I tend to be a little different from the norm since I like telling stories. I promise to write a log about it sometime, but it’ll be the extended version.
I managed to finish my 1500 word colloquium report at five in the morning. I was prepared to defend it tonight but the four reports before me took up too much time. I suppose that’s a blessing in disguise.
Continuing with the theme of the week, I could call Dai Hoi an international conference. On the home front, we had many people from California and Pennsylvania. Quite a few were from Boston, Florida, Virginia, and Maryland. Europeans came from France, Belgium, and Germany. Even the land down under, Australia, had a representative. I suppose that I should count the Canadian contingent under the international presence as well.
How about another amusing moment from Dai Hoi? It gives me a chance to practice my digressing powers. None of you really want to know the other half of the confident pessimist story anyways.
Friday night, we ate at a Vietnamese Bistro. Saigon “something” (there are so many Viet restaurants named Saigon [fill in the blank]). You can find it in the Eden Center near the famed Seven Corners of the DC area. Just look for the yellow flag with three red stripes.
At the restaurant that night we did the favorite Asian group activity: karaoke. It was fun watching other people make fools of themselves. It’s rather fascinating to watch people sing to words that you don’t quite understand (lyrics are poetic, which is beyond the realm of my Vietnamese language abilities).
But the best moment was during dinner, when this lady with bouquets of roses came in. Anh Vu (anime explanation girl says Anh is a Vietnamese honorific denoting an older brother, even though this guy is certainly no blood relation to Daniel) “Da Monk” cooly took out an Andrew Jackson and bought a bouquet from the nice lady.
Everybody cheered and clapped and laughed because everybody knew who the flowers were for.
The lucky French girl, Phuoc (whose name, ironically enough, means lucky).
An aside, is it really possible for two people across an ocean to fall in love? And I don’t mean some fling either, I mean two people truly falling in love. I mean the culture difference should be enough to stop anything from happen, not to mention the physical separation. I’ve seen too many relationships break up when the couple was within two hours driving distance of each other. Sure, I’m sure it’s just a byproduct of maturing from high school, but I think it also has to do with that saying “out of sight, out of mind”. An ocean tends to kill the notion of “absence makes the heart grow fonder”.
Since I was sitting next to the lucky girl, I could observe her reaction. Her eyes betrayed the thoughts of someone who got a surprise they didn’t want.
She still gave him a hug, so the monk didn’t completely lose out.
I had to give him kudos for having the guts to play such a gambit. But gambits are just that: a risky move that often ends in failure.
Let’s fast forward to Sunday night. Dai Hoi sponsored a banquet, bringing in a talented young singer to provide entertainment for the dance. Though I don’t keep up with the Viet pop music scene, I must say she did have a darned good voice.
Of course, someone had to ask me to dance.
By refusing to dance, my true Baptist nature came through. You see, Baptists just don’t dance; we do dancing injustice.
Surprisingly, the bespectacled Phuoc refused to take no for an answer, dragging this poor soul to do the devilish act of dancing.
It’ll be fun.
Famous last words.
In the process of stepping on her feet countless times, I managed to yell a question out over the blaring music:
Why aren’t you dancing with the monk?
To tell you the truth, I don’t like him. I asked you to dance so he doesn’t ask me first.
Yay, I’m running interference. Nevertheless, I was doing so for a rather cute French girl. Should I be complaining?
Yeah.
The monk eventually got his dance with the French girl of his dreams, though he finally understood he would not be able to steal her heart.
In the end, I found it amusing that the monk tried so hard to woo the lucky girl to no avail.
Is it a sin to find pleasure in the failings of others?
But that’s okay, my Ferrett sensei taught me people will read me if they’re interested. I’ll know because if I touched them they’ll comment.
My scheming roommate is at it again. We have agreed that if he gets below a certain weight that I’ll get drunk with him (hyperbolically speaking, of course).
I shared my testimony at the BSU FOCUS lunch today. I tend to be a little different from the norm since I like telling stories. I promise to write a log about it sometime, but it’ll be the extended version.
I managed to finish my 1500 word colloquium report at five in the morning. I was prepared to defend it tonight but the four reports before me took up too much time. I suppose that’s a blessing in disguise.
Continuing with the theme of the week, I could call Dai Hoi an international conference. On the home front, we had many people from California and Pennsylvania. Quite a few were from Boston, Florida, Virginia, and Maryland. Europeans came from France, Belgium, and Germany. Even the land down under, Australia, had a representative. I suppose that I should count the Canadian contingent under the international presence as well.
How about another amusing moment from Dai Hoi? It gives me a chance to practice my digressing powers. None of you really want to know the other half of the confident pessimist story anyways.
Friday night, we ate at a Vietnamese Bistro. Saigon “something” (there are so many Viet restaurants named Saigon [fill in the blank]). You can find it in the Eden Center near the famed Seven Corners of the DC area. Just look for the yellow flag with three red stripes.
At the restaurant that night we did the favorite Asian group activity: karaoke. It was fun watching other people make fools of themselves. It’s rather fascinating to watch people sing to words that you don’t quite understand (lyrics are poetic, which is beyond the realm of my Vietnamese language abilities).
But the best moment was during dinner, when this lady with bouquets of roses came in. Anh Vu (anime explanation girl says Anh is a Vietnamese honorific denoting an older brother, even though this guy is certainly no blood relation to Daniel) “Da Monk” cooly took out an Andrew Jackson and bought a bouquet from the nice lady.
Everybody cheered and clapped and laughed because everybody knew who the flowers were for.
The lucky French girl, Phuoc (whose name, ironically enough, means lucky).
An aside, is it really possible for two people across an ocean to fall in love? And I don’t mean some fling either, I mean two people truly falling in love. I mean the culture difference should be enough to stop anything from happen, not to mention the physical separation. I’ve seen too many relationships break up when the couple was within two hours driving distance of each other. Sure, I’m sure it’s just a byproduct of maturing from high school, but I think it also has to do with that saying “out of sight, out of mind”. An ocean tends to kill the notion of “absence makes the heart grow fonder”.
Since I was sitting next to the lucky girl, I could observe her reaction. Her eyes betrayed the thoughts of someone who got a surprise they didn’t want.
She still gave him a hug, so the monk didn’t completely lose out.
I had to give him kudos for having the guts to play such a gambit. But gambits are just that: a risky move that often ends in failure.
Let’s fast forward to Sunday night. Dai Hoi sponsored a banquet, bringing in a talented young singer to provide entertainment for the dance. Though I don’t keep up with the Viet pop music scene, I must say she did have a darned good voice.
Of course, someone had to ask me to dance.
By refusing to dance, my true Baptist nature came through. You see, Baptists just don’t dance; we do dancing injustice.
Surprisingly, the bespectacled Phuoc refused to take no for an answer, dragging this poor soul to do the devilish act of dancing.
It’ll be fun.
Famous last words.
In the process of stepping on her feet countless times, I managed to yell a question out over the blaring music:
Why aren’t you dancing with the monk?
To tell you the truth, I don’t like him. I asked you to dance so he doesn’t ask me first.
Yay, I’m running interference. Nevertheless, I was doing so for a rather cute French girl. Should I be complaining?
Yeah.
The monk eventually got his dance with the French girl of his dreams, though he finally understood he would not be able to steal her heart.
In the end, I found it amusing that the monk tried so hard to woo the lucky girl to no avail.
Is it a sin to find pleasure in the failings of others?
